Secrets at the Keep (Kingdom of Denall Book 2) (20 page)

Trae was standing at the side of the room surrounded by many concerned guests. “It is normal for a magician to need rest after such an exertion. The poison had spread to nearly all of the grounds around the keep.” An audible gasp passed through the group, and one woman placed her hand over her heart and began fanning herself profusely. Her husband placed his arm around her for support.

After the initial shock the questions came: “Are we safe? Did the poison reach the food? How much magic is he doing? Is he going to be able to finish tomorrow?” Trae gritted his teeth and prepared to lie through them while he pictured Dune upstairs in their lavish apartment.

“He is a very powerful magician. Tomorrow will be a difficult day, but I have no doubt that all will be well.” It was at least the twentieth time he had expressed the same sentiment and he needed a short break. “Excuse me for a moment.”

Trae circled the room, nodding and acknowledging many guests as he made his way to the beverage table. As he leaned over to take a flagon of warm cider, he was startled by a soft voice beside him. “I was not expecting to see you again.”

He stood up and turned to face a beautiful noblewoman dressed in a fine silk gown. “Hello Milady,” he bowed deeply, for longer than was necessary, as he tried to remember her. He stood from his bow, upset that his mind was still blank. “I beg your pardon; I don’t remember when we met.”

She smiled slightly; tilting her head to the side and striking a pose that was probably meant to make her look innocent, but Trae could see in her eyes that she was dangerous. “That’s probably because we never did meet. I only recognize you from your voice. Now aren’t you going to ask me to dance?”

Trae furrowed his brow in concentration, “Yes, yes of course. Would you like to dance?” She did not answer, but instead lifted her hand for him to lead her to the center of the room. He cautiously placed his hand on her slender waist and began leading her around the small dance floor. The last time he had danced was when his mother was teaching him in the living room. This was not his living room, and the beautiful woman in his arms was certainly not his mother. He was so nervous that he was sure his hands were sweaty.

At first he concentrated on not stepping on her feet, but after a couple of turns, he fell into the rhythm of their dance. “So when did you hear my voice?”

She pulled him close and his breath caught. When her lips were just inches from his ear she whispered. “You followed me into an abandoned alley in Lexingar.”

Trae nearly tripped. “That was you?” he blurted out.

Her glower silenced him. “Yes,” she answered calmly as she took a small, half step that got them moving to the beat of the music again.

“I was following you to protect you from the seek… from that person who was following you,” he quickly corrected. “I would never have tried to hurt you.”

“That’s what I thought,” she spoke quietly into his ear. “Otherwise you would have joined that other seek… person.” She pulled back and let him spin her around. When she was face to face with him again she smiled smugly at him.

“Well I’m glad to see that you are safe,” Trae said. He kept dancing for a few moments, not sure what else to say.

“Yes, I am very safe here,” she replied curtly. Then after another spin she leaned in close again. “Now let’s get to the point. What are you really doing here?” she asked in a no-nonsense tone. She was a complete mystery to him. She looked and acted like a carefree noble, but her eyes and her facial expressions seemed to tell him there was so much more to what was happening.

Trae looked around the room quickly, but it seemed that nobody was paying attention to them too closely. “I’m just here as an escort to the master magician, to repair the property.”

“That is not the master magician they sent for,” she replied quickly. “Dune is the magician from the archery tournament. You either tell me why you are really here, or I’ll report my suspicions to my father.”

“Your father?” he asked, not sure if he was already supposed to know who she was.

“Oh I forgot, I have not yet introduced myself. I am Pentra, daughter of Omer.”

Trae was silent for a moment as they continued to dance. Although he didn’t say anything, he felt like the room was spinning. What was he going to say to Omer’s daughter? ‘We’re here to kidnap one of your father’s guests,’ that probably wouldn’t go over very well. How about ‘Your father is supporting Mordyar, so we’re going to bring him down,’ He fumbled for something to say.
Why had she chosen to dance with him? What had she been doing at the Lexingar tournaments dressed like a commoner?

Feeling that the conversation was as private as it would get, he took a deep breath and spoke in a whisper. “Lady Pentra, you are right. Dune is not the magician your father sent for.” She looked at him expectantly, obviously not satisfied with that explanation. “Dune will fix the grounds for your father, and we will be off. We mean no harm to this place. We are just here looking for an old friend, Melna.”

“Melna came recently,” she said as they turned on the dance floor. Trae looked over Pentra’s shoulder, trying to see if he could spot her in the crowd. “She keeps to herself for the most part,” Pentra added. “Hasn’t even wanted to meet with my father since she’s been here. If she does come out of her room, perhaps she has some private business she wants to conduct with the master magician.”

“That’s all we’re interested in,” Trae said. “Just conducting business with Melna and then we will be on our way.”

Pentra exhaled slowly, “That is truly too bad.” Her downcast look and sad tone made Trae wonder what she had meant by this response.

“What’s really happening here?” He asked in a whisper he hoped only Pentra could hear. “Is everything okay?”

She gripped his hand in a squeeze for a brief moment, then resumed dancing. “Everything here is just fine,” she replied with an exaggerated smile. Trae looked around the room. Most of the nobles were gathered around Baron Clifton, an honored guest from Lexingar, and longtime friend of Omer, but one man was standing by a table covered with an assortment of mixed greens glaring in Trae’s direction with his arms crossed over his chest. Pentra took the lead for a moment, twisting them so that Trae now had his back to the man. “Don’t take the salad, it’s rather bitter,” she warned, then she squeezed his hand again.

He wasn’t sure exactly what was happening, but it was obvious she was trying to give him some kind of message.

“Is he a listener?” Trae asked as quietly as he could.

They spun around so Pentra now had her back to the man, “A visor, and he is very good a reading lips. Just keep smiling.”

Trae smiled and made a fake laugh as he kept dancing with her for a moment, not sure how to react. Was this man a bodyguard of some kind? It seemed her father was very over protective. “So what keeps you here in this part of Denall?” Trae asked, trying to make it seem like he was making small talk, but hoping he could make the conversation make sense to him.

“My dear father,” she responded. “I can’t possibly leave his side,” she added with a grin.

Trae could sense that something was going on with Pentra more than just an overprotective father, but he had no way to ask her, and she seemed to be talking in riddles. “If you could go anywhere in all of Denall, where would you visit?” he asked.

“I’d go east,” she said. Then, when her back was to the salad table she quickly added, “Like my father I’m quite a philanthropist. I like to help people who can’t help themselves.” As they finished the turn her fake smile returned to her face. “Perhaps I’d see a caravan or two traveling that direction. That would be fun.”

They danced in silence for a while as Trae tried to figure out what she was trying to tell him. Was she trapped here? Was her mention of the east and the caravan somehow connected to the army that was leaving? Why would she want to go with them? As he tried to puzzle out their communications the music began to slow down, indicating that the song would soon end.

“Perhaps you can help us,” Trae said hopefully, not wanting to leave her looking so sad and helpless.

As the music ended, she glanced over to the man watching them. She snapped her head up and stuck her nose in the air, “I doubt that very much.” Pentra turned and walked away.

He wanted to call out to her, or follow her, but when he took a step in her direction, he was cut off by another noblewoman. “You’re not getting off this dance floor so easily,” she said with a smile.

Trae held her hand and bowed formally. “I would be honored to have this dance,” he said, trying to act as pompous as possible. As they began dancing, he stole glances over her shoulder, watching Pentra. She stayed in the room, and pleasantly talked with the other nobles, smiling politely, but Trae could tell that there was a deep rooted sadness in her demeanor, a sorrow that he was helpless to do anything about.

He finished the dance and bowed politely to his partner. “Thank you for the dance,” he said politely.

“Would you care to dance again?” she asked with a mischievous look in her eyes.

Trae looked quickly around the room for some kind of excuse. “I actually think they are waiting for me,” he lied as he pointed to a group of nobles standing on the edge of the room. “It was a pleasure.” Without waiting for a response, he waved at the small group of men and made his way to them. Through the rest of the evening he met with almost all the guests of the keep. Some were eager to inquire after the master magician, and others wanted to share gossip. One guest caught his attention as she surreptitiously glanced over her shoulder at him. When their eyes met, she immediately turned back to her food.

Though she had not recognized him, he knew exactly who she was. The short, overweight seeker from Lexingar looked just as she had when Trae first met her on the road to the tournaments. Throughout the night he saw her, from time to time, purposefully keeping her distance while trying to hear all that he spoke of the magician. He made extra efforts to keep his story consistent and not give away any part of their travels that would suggest they had been near Lexingar. Fortunately, most nobles did not watch the archery tournaments; they preferred jousting.

In fact, the jousting tournament seemed to be one of only three general threads of discussion that was being picked up all evening long. He was beginning to tire of the story of the Baron of Tran who had mysteriously gone missing during the jousting tournament, and had not been seen since then. If he had not had so many pressing matters on his mind, he too might have enjoyed speculating about the disappearance of the young man who was third in line for the throne. As it was, he barely registered the whispered conversation one pocket of Dune’s admirers was having about how Baron Clifton’s prestige had sky-rocketed now that he was the only heir to the throne whose whereabouts were known.

When the gathering was nearly over, Trae’s voice was hoarse from talking all evening. After bidding a final farewell to those who remained, he headed for the upper levels of the keep. Walking through the empty hallway, his mind wandered back to the dance with Pentra. He knew that his mission was important and could mean stopping the stone seekers in Denall, but he couldn’t help himself from thinking about her. He knew something wasn’t right, and he felt an insatiable desire to help her.

He walked along the curved ramp that spiraled up next to the outer wall. In spite of its lavish interior, the keep was built to defend against any force that would attack. As he passed the openings, he peered out the tall, narrow arrow slits into the dark blue of the night. He stopped when he reached the southern wall, and placed his hands on the sill. He deeply inhaled the crisp, evening air that smelled cleaner from this height. He stared out into the darkness, knowing that somewhere miles away his parents were at the blacksmith shop.
I hope they are safer than I am.

As he stood gazing out the opening, he heard faint footsteps approaching. There was a great deal of traffic in the keep, but for some unknown reason he felt uneasy. When the footsteps came around the corner he turned and found himself face to face with Melna.

“Oh!” she said with a jump. “I didn’t hear you up this way.”

“Hello,” Trae offered his hand in greeting. “I am Trae. What is your name?”

“I am Mel,” she took his hand gently. “I’m glad that we are able to meet, I do some trading in magical items, and I’m always very excited to meet a…”

Before she could finish her thought Trae knocked her over the head with a sturdy punch. She fell into his arms. Trae looked around frantically, making sure nobody had heard the sound, then he picked Melna up like a baby and briskly returned to his quarters. Halfway down the hall he passed an older man who had a bit of a crazy look in his eyes.

“This woman is practically singing,” the man said as he looked at Melna.

Trae nodded politely, not knowing what else to do. “Yes,” he agreed. “My lovely wife does love to sing. But the poor lady is having a dizzy spell so I need to get her back to her room.” Trae kept walking trying to avoid passing anyone else on his way.

When he opened the door to his chamber, he found Dune with his feet up on the furniture, sitting next to a golden bracelet. “So how did the evening go?” he asked as he spun around in his seat. The moment he saw Trae with Melna in his arms he sprang up. “Ah, you’ve done it! I thought we would need to search for her tomorrow, but you’re gone only a few hours and return with the villain I’ve been seeking for more months than I care to think about!”